


I Told You So

by CagedBirdSings



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff, Friendship, Hayama with ADHD, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Minor Injuries, Other, Platonic Love, Self-Acceptance, Team Rakuzan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CagedBirdSings/pseuds/CagedBirdSings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hayama Kotaro, Small Forward of Rakuzan High, is famous for his hyperactive behaviour both on and off the court, a fact Mibuchi Reo knows better than anyone. This time, however, actions have more dire consequences, and Kotaro learns that sometimes, words truly can heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Told You So

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was talking about headcanons with [Yoko_Fujioka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoko_Fujioka/pseuds/Yoko_Fujioka/) and searching for inspiration on what to write about Mibuchi and Hayama, and she mentioned the idea of Kotaro having a form of ADHD. And I thought, ah yes, this is something I can get into. And here we are, I hope you enjoy!

Things could only end in chaos.

“I keep telling you, control yourself! You’ll end up hurting yourself eventually, you know! Besides, we’re in a public area, so behave.”

Mibuchi Reo considered himself to be many things, and patient was certainly one of them. Even so, everyone has their limits, and those limits were currently being tested by none other than Hayama Kotaro, Small Forward of Rakuzan High School and hyperactive mentally-5-year-old, exceptionally skilled at making Reo’s treasured dark hair turn white decades before he was willing to accept such a change.

It wasn’t at all uncommon for Rakuzan’s Vice Captain and Shooting Guard to spend time with the team’s Small Forward, both in and outside of school. Most of the time, Reo found Kotaro’s company to be pleasant (against all odds, really. _How could one boy make so much noise? He’s always trashing about, too._ ), but moments like these made him regret his life choices a little. Kotaro was restless and rarely still even on the best of days, but the last exam week before summer vacation and furthermore, the lack of basketball practice that came with it always causes an overabundance of unused energy to explode. Such was the case right now. Reo had decided that it was time to hit Central Kyoto for some serious shopping, inviting his friend to join him in the hopes that getting out of the dorm might help the boy unwind. It certainly seemed to cheer him up: upon hearing Reo’s invitation, Kotaro had jumped up from the bed and onto his feet with the speed of light, glomping the dark-haired boy and yelling into his ear something about “Reo-nee’s kind heart” and “saving grace”, and he would have loved to listen to the compliments if they wouldn’t have threatened to rob him of his sense of hearing. Reo didn’t have to wait long for Kotaro to get ready, and after a couple of minutes had passed (how anyone could take less than one hour to prepare, Reo had no idea), they were out the dorm.

Ever since then, instead of enjoying himself, Reo could feel the life being sucked out of him. He learned that simply inviting Kotaro out of the dorm was far from enough exercise to please him, and he watched in horror as the boy did yet another front flip before he could manage to stop him, landing nimbly on the bottom of the stairs they were currently walking down. People were staring. Reo could _feel_ the hair on his head losing its colour.

“You- I just told you to behave!”

Kotaro quickly straightened himself after planting his feet on the ground and turned his head to look at the taller boy (who, unlike some people, properly walked the stairs one step at a time), knitting his eyebrows in annoyance, _as if he was the one with reason to be irritated._ “You know, Reo-nee, haven’t you been nagging a lot more than usual? You talk about _my_ nervous energy, but doesn’t this always happen to you when you’re stressed out?”

“I’m not the one doing somersaults in the middle of a staircase!” Reo retorted, the pitch of his voice taking a higher note as his words stringed more tightly together, something that happened naturally when his emotions were running high. “I’m seriously worried about you, you know. You’re more out of control than usual, running this way and that, doing flips and whatnot. You’re going to get hurt, and what will I do then?”

“Reo-nee, you’re talking really fast… and besides, I’m not prone to accidents, anyway!” Kotaro had a carefree smile on his face now, and Reo couldn’t say he approved. He replied with a sour look.

“I want to hear you say that after you’ve landed on your face.”

“Am I shopping with my mom or something?! Please. I love you, Reo-nee, but you’re too much sometimes…”

“ _I don’t want to heart that from you!_ I’m the one looking after a restless child here.”

“I’m older than you, ya know~.” Kotaro replied with an impish grin.

Reo shot him a look. “Be quiet, you. No one acknowledges that.”

“Sure. So, where’re we going next? It’s not like those three bags of clothes are all you’re going to buy, right?”

_Like water off a duck’s back. Will my words ever be heard._

“Honestly. What am I going to do with you?” Reo sighed to himself, exasperated, trying to keep his worry and frustration in check. Kotaro wasn’t completely wrong with his claims: he did have a bad habit of letting things get to him, being a worrywart by nature, and more often than not, the aforementioned worry had a habit of coming out as what some _might_ consider nagging. Reo had thought about it on several occasions, and understood that his motherly behaviour could sometimes be overbearing, but his friends and family had long since accepted that this was, if anything, a sign of love and care, and a big part of Reo’s personality as a whole. Even so, he did sometimes hope that he’d know how to relax a little more.

If people would just _behave_ , though, he wouldn’t have to get upset in the first place.

Reo exhaled once more, eyes closed and brows furrowed, and brushed his hair behind his right ear as he started walking down another set of stairs, navigating through the shopping centre like it was his home. “Let’s go down to the ground floor, then. We’ll go to the bookstore, and then I need to buy a new pair of shoe—Kotaro!”

It almost seemed as if the blonde had somehow teleported himself from Reo’s side to the end of the stairs, taking leaps that covered heaven-knows-how-many steps at a time. Reo shrieked as he saw a young boy ( _likely_ _no older than 10 years_ , _without further analysis_ ), who had been making his way up the stairs, stopping his movements, eyes wide and stunned like a deer in headlights: a fast-moving figure was practically flying through the air towards him, a “ _Woah!”_ escaping Kotaro’s lips as he struggled to stop the momentum, mere inches saving the innocent soul from being squished by the impact of Kotaro’s figure.

_Enough. Enough, enough, enough!_

Reo walked down with a faster pace now, a storm starting to form itself in the teal-coloured eyes, calm enough to offer the young boy a “I’m sorry, are you hurt?”, but the intensity returning the moment the child offered him a hurried “no” as a reply. Kotaro had fallen uncharacteristically quiet upon seeing the expression, all apologies having escaped as his mouth went dry, eyes stilled and sharp teeth biting at his lips, and he _knew_ he was in trouble now.

“Kotaro, _enough_ ,” Reo hissed, grabbing the sleeve of his friend’s ( _if you can even call him that at this rate)_ black-and-white baseball jersey and tugging it, forcing Kotaro to face him, “in Heaven’s name, _stop it._ You almost squished that child. You’re embarrassing me in public. You’re all over the place.  You need to control yourself. _You. Are going. To get. Hurt.”_

Kotaro couldn’t help but flinch at the lack of the _onee-kotoba_ that was ever present in Reo’s words. Suddenly, the gentle, playful speech wasn’t there. Not in a single match, _on a single day thus far_ , had he heard Reo-nee speak so… _plainly and forcefully_ as he did now, eyes resembling an ocean when it storms, an elegant, _terrifyingly strong_ hand grasping at his jersey with filed nails trying to rip through the material, and Kotaro felt like he had just received an unwanted reminder of why this person could call _The_ Akashi Seijuro _“Sei-chan”_.

Kotaro gulped, making an effort to make the sound as quiet as possible, failing at it and trying to recall _how to words._ It was hard, and that made it even harder, because since when has he had _problems with talking?_

(Kotaro thought about what he should say. “ _Sorry, I don’t know how to stop.” Yeah. That. That’s what. I should just say it, right?)_

“Uh”, he started. “Sorry. My bad. My bad, Reo-nee, so could you just-“Kotaro tried to make Reo follow his eyes to the hand that was still gripping at his jersey. Reo’s gaze lowered, and his eyes widened, as if surprised by the discovery. “Oh,” he said, voice small. “I’m sorry. How unsightly of me.” Reo let go of the sleeve, the familiar speech pattern having returned. Kotaro sighed in relief, shock gone and smile returning.

“Don’t sweat it, Reo-nee. Really, my bad. So,” Kotaro brushed the sleeve with his hand in an attempt to erase the wrinkles made by Reo’s grip, talking all the while, “where did you say you wanna go next?”

Reo raised his head, and the storm was gone. It was now replaced by doubt and worry, and Kotaro couldn’t say he liked that, either. He could feel an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach, like bubbling acid, and the more he tried to concentrate on controlling his limbs, the harder it became.

“Let’s continue on to the bookstore, then,” Reo said, sounding defeated, “and after I’ve bought the book for the new course of Advanced Japanese Literature, we can leave.”

Kotaro was fairly sure that the bookstore wasn’t the last shop Reo had planned on visiting before, but he was past the point of inquiring about it any further, gave an “Okay, let’s go!” instead, already moving ahead in too quick, too long strides. The odd bubbling acid was really burning him now, and he _needed_ to move his legs faster than this. It wasn’t enough. He was on the last set of stairs, they would go to the bookstore, he could go running when they got back to the dorm, _but_ _running is boring alone_ , no, he didn’t care, he just wanted to _move._ As Kotaro’s figure drifted further and further away, Reo snapped back to attention.

“Kotaro, slow down-“

_I need to move. It’s not enough, I need to move._

“ _KOTARO!_ ”

Reo’s scream was loud, the syllables scratching his throat, and it was the last thing Kotaro knew before the world went dark.

—

Regaining consciousness was not a pleasant experience.

 _Ugh… shit, my head hurts._ The first thing Kotaro noticed was the pulsating pain at the back of his skull, and it was unlike any headache he’s had before. He could feel that his body was lying down. It was soft- a mattress? He made an effort to open his eyelids, and hell, even his eyes hurt.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

“Hey kid, how’s the head?”

As Kotaro’s eyes opened, he could see two, though somewhat blurry figures before him: sitting in front of him was a lithe figure with incredibly bright red hair, book in one hand, and a few feet behind the chair was a much taller figure, dark and broad.

“Akashi… Ei-chan.” Kotaro looked at his teammates, blinking away the last remnants of blurriness as he did so. He could see the expressions on their faces now, Nebuya’s face splitting into a wide grin at the sound of his voice and the smallest of exhales escaping Akashi’s lips, signalling relief.

“Hayama,” Akashi closed the book in his hand and leaned closer, expression calm and tone even, but there was a certain intensity in the crimson, cat-like orbs that were now clearly analysing Kotaro’s current state.  “How are you feeling? Can you recall what you were doing before you woke up?”

Kotaro found that forming sentences was a little harder than usual due to the lack of words he was able to recall, and there was still a throbbing pain somewhere behind his eyes. “I was… shopping with Reo-nee. And, uh, it really hurts. What happened? Where is he…? Um, where are we?”

“We’re at the hospital. You’ve been asleep for an hour and a half by now.” Akashi spoke deliberately slowly, “It seems you had a concussion after slipping on the stairs and injuring the back of your head, and your wound was stitched. Mibuchi contacted me when he entered the ambulance with you, and I arrived here together with Nebuya about twenty minutes ago. I feared Mibuchi wasn’t feeling well, so I advised him to walk around for a while. He should be returning soon.”

“A concussion, huh…” Kotaro moved his head around a little, and he was now actually aware of the bandage wrapped around his skull. He took in his surroundings for the first time: it really was a hospital room. _Oh, man. Reo-nee will go ballistic when he sees me. I might deserve that one, though. Wait, did he just say that Reo-nee wasn’t feeling well?_ When Kotaro thought about the worry he had unintentionally caused Reo, who had just wanted to shop around and enjoy himself and who had been kind enough to even invite him along in the first place, he could feel guilt poking at his chest.

Akashi’s gaze remained on Kotaro as he spoke. “Well, your speech is clear, which is very promising. Though I’m sure they’ll want to analyze your condition further before they let you leave.”

“And you’re not suffering from memory loss. That’s something.” Nebuya’s voice was mixed with relief and lingering worry as he gazed down at Kotaro’s bed, muscled arms folding against his chest. “We heard you caused a pretty big number back there, Kotaro. The queen was as pale as a ghost when we got here. You know I’m ready to hit the gym with you anytime, so just let me know when you want to burn energy, alright?” Kotaro made a face at that.

“I don’t want to go to the gym with you, Ei-chan. You’re too much of a show-off and it’s way embarrassing…”

“You’ll understand when you have muscles like these, kid.”

“Don’t want ‘em.”

“You cheeky punk…”

“Yeah, yeah. So you saw Reo-nee when you came in here?”

“Yeah, sitting in that chair next to you like he’s your mother. Not really far from the truth, though, considering what you put him through.”

Kotaro could feel himself snapping faster than he could stop the level of his voice rising, “I _didn’t_ mean to! As if I’d do it on purpose!”

Suddenly, a wave of shame was washing over him, and his head felt too heavy to not let it droop helplessly from his shoulders. “ _I didn’t mean to_ ”, he repeated, and this time the voice was quiet, fragile. The reaction seemed to stir something in both Nebuya and Akashi alike, and the tall man scratched the back of his head absentmindedly, lowering his gaze. “Sorry, Kotaro. I didn’t mean to sound harsh.” Kotaro gave a small shake of his head, a sign of _don’t worry about it._

“Hayama.” The sound of Akashi’s voice put a stop to their conversation, both heads quickly flipping to the direction of their captain as if by instinct. “What happened today does make me concerned, as well. I’m not unfamiliar with your impulsive behaviour, but what Mibuchi described does seem to be… rather serious. I’d like to know the reason for that.”  As always, Akashi spoke in a calm, even tone, and yet somehow the words managed to hold an underlying note of unforced authority, urging Kotaro to speak.

If only talking about personal issues were as easy as… well, talking about literally anything else, in Kotaro’s case.

Kotaro opened his mouth to form a sentence, only to discover that nope, this won’t go smoothly at all. “Uh–”

The door handle rattled lightly, and the entrance is pushed open.

“Sei-chan, Eikichi, thank you for—“

Reo is stopped in his tracks, a small plastic bag with a can of green tea and two sports drinks dangling from his wrist, and he stares at Kotaro like he has never seen him before. The whole room is silent as Reo looks at him, wide-eyed and shocked- _why do his eyes look so swollen- has he been crying?_ and Kotaro has trouble breathing, terrified of what’s to come, feeling more awake now than what he would like to. He really has no idea how much or little time passes before Reo lowers his head, dark hair falling to his face, and he mumbles.

“– _I’m not prone to accidents, anyway._ ”

Kotaro’s expression turns to one of absolute confusion. “Huh…?”

“ _’I’m not prone to accidents, anyway.’_ That’s what you said.”

“Oh… _oh._ ” _Well, fuck._

Reo’s face isn’t visible from where Kotaro’s sitting on the bed, but he can hear the faint sound of sniffling, and he could almost swear that he sees heavy droplets falling down Reo’s chin and on to the floor.

“You’d get hurt. I told you so. How many times did I tell you…? Is there a reason why you wouldn’t listen? What did I do wrong?”

Kotaro feels a small rush of panic, because “No, Reo-nee, that’s not it at all! It’s not about you, okay? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

And at that- as if he had been granted permission- in no more than four seconds, Reo is draped over him, hands clutching tightly at Kotaro’s back as he cries and shakes, and he returns the gesture as he feels his own eyes starting to sting with tears. They stay like that, and suddenly there are four of them, Akashi rubbing small, soothing circles between Reo’s shoulder blades as he stands right next to the bed while Nebuya is at the opposite side, ruffling Kotaro’s hair.

“Do you have any idea how I felt-“ Reo attempts to speak through his tears, hiccups getting in the way of his sentences and cutting the words apart, “-when I saw you b–bleeding from your he-head? The-they had to stitch it up, you know.”

“Yeah.” Kotaro says no more as he continues to tightly hold his friend in place.

“I-I was so terrified—when I thought about- what could’ve happened to you…”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know– what can ha-happen when you get a concussion? And your parents- are abroad. You-you’d have no one to take care of you.”

“Nah. I have you to nurse me back to health, Reo-nee. I’ll be just fine.”

A teary chuckle escaped Reo’s lips. “Idiot.”

“I deserve that one. I’m sorry, Reo-nee.” Kotaro could hear Reo’s breathing starting to calm down, taking once again a more even pace, and he relaxed his hold on him, allowing Reo to take enough distance to correct his posture. Akashi and Nebuya quickly noticed their shifting, both giving space to the two sitting on the bed.

“Here, Mibuchi. Wipe your tears.” Akashi reached for the pocket square of his vest, taking out an elaborate, pure white lace handkerchief and offering it to Reo, who took it with a grateful smile. Kotaro knew that their young captain could be rather dandy, but the item still seemed a little out of place, and it didn’t really match the colours he was wearing, either. He didn’t have any more time to dwell on that, though.

“Listen, Reo-nee… I’m sorry about today. It was, uh…”

Reo snapped to attention, bright, tear-swollen eyes peeking from behind the handkerchief. “Yes..? What is it, Kotaro?”

Kotaro opened and closed his mouth, repeated the motions in an effort to form a sentence, but no words came to him. He lowered his head, sharp teeth biting into his lower lip in irritation as Reo looked at him, helpless, concerned eyes waiting for answers Kotaro was too afraid to provide. He could begin to taste blood in his mouth.

“There is no need to feel ashamed, Hayama.”

The sound of Akashi’s voice caught Kotaro’s attention, and the words made him speechless. He probably shouldn’t be so taken aback by the thought of Akashi knowing something… but the guy could consider trying to know a little less sometimes.

Or, you know. Maybe not. Because the small, knowing smile playing on Akashi’s features felt immensely encouraging.

“I have hyperactive disorder.”

(Kotaro had expected his words to be met with silence. The eerie, heavy kind that he really hated. But they weren’t.)

“Hyperactive disorder?” Reo’s eyes widened ever so slightly at his friend’s words. “As in, ADHD?”

“Yeah,” Kotaro confirmed quietly, “or a form of it, at least. I’m hyperactive-impulsive. It was a lot worse when I was younger… but it’s still there.” Kotaro directed his gaze at Reo apologetically, ready to say _I’m sorry_ , and… oh, was this feeling _fear_?

Reo looked back, eyes softening in understanding. “So there _was_ something more to it. You finally told me.”

“I’m—what?”

“I always knew there was _something,_ ” Reo elaborated, “but you never told me what it was. The extra time during exams, your behaviour… I’m not an idiot, Kotaro. But I… I suppose I took it for granted that you’d blurt out whatever you knew, and since you never did, I began thinking that you’re likely unaware yourself. Were you afraid to talk all this time?”

“Well, I mean _\- it’s just not something I can talk about, okay?_ Mom and dad made sure to drill that into my head. I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever mentioned it to, like, anyone. It’s already shameful that I have it-”

“This changes nothing, you know.”

“-and it’s bad for the family-… huh?”

Reo couldn’t hold in a chuckle, and a string of bubbling sounds made their way out from his lips. “You’re really in awe lately, aren’t you.”

“So it has a term,” Nebuya joined in, “but that doesn’t really make a difference, right? We’re already used to you monkeying around, so what does it matter to us? As if we’d want you any other way.”

“ _As if you’re one to talk about monkeying around,_ ” Reo said, mildly exasperated.

Kotaro hadn’t remembered to blink, and he could feel his eyes starting to burn. “You’re not gonna… you don’t hate me? I won’t have to give up my spot as a regular now?”

“An absurd notion, Hayama.” Akashi’s voice was strict now, but not the least bit aggressive. “I can understand the fear of being stigmatized due to your condition, but do not think that your level of skill and passion amount to so little. Impulsive as you may be, your stamina, reflexes and dribbling speed are second to none, and you remain an essential part of Rakuzan, just as you have been until now. In fact, this part of you likely only adds to your talent as a player. Feel no fear in that regard. You remain just as treasured as you were prior to this information.”

Nebuya’s brows knit together. “Oi, Akashi, just how do you manage to pull off lines like that like they’re nothing?”

“Oh, my. Sei-chan, it seems you’re being a threat to a certain brawn brain’s masculinity.”

That earned a look from Nebuya. “I don’t want to hear that from you, queen.”

“Oh, I have confidence to spare, I assure you. Would you like some?”

“I’ll always win in a test of strength, so you can keep the sugary words for all I care.”

“Ugh. _This_ is why we can never be friends.”

“This is hardly the time or the place for quarrelling, you two.” Akashi’s interruption came before the mutual teasing escalated into anything else, a favour to all those present.

Kotaro watched the scene in front of him with fondness and bafflement. He blinked furiously to make the sting in his eyes disappear. It didn’t work. It only managed to make his head ache, reminding him of the damage he single-handedly caused for himself, and of the worry he caused for his friends who had come to comfort and care for him. Before he knew it, a few drops of salt were escaping his eyes. Salty drops of gratitude.

They did not go unnoticed.

Reo’s attention turned to Kotaro in an instant, some sort of inner nurture antenna doing its job and catching Kotaro’s silent tears on its radar even in the midst of an intense staring contest between Nebuya and himself. Reo used the long sleeves of his shirt to wipe the tears from Kotaro’s face, and he thought about how stupid it was that Reo was an only child; he’d be an amazing older sibling. Maybe he’ll be a great parent someday. The children would be lucky, he knew.

“Oh, dear. Is it really that surprising to hear that you’re loved?”

“Maybe your head’s worse than I thought,” Nebuya said, “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you cry before today.”

Kotaro felt lost, overwhelmed. “I’m… I’m so…” _I’m sorry, I’m so grateful, I’m so stupid, Thank you._

So many words tried to make their way into his mouth at once, that in the end none came out. None came out, and yet, he felt oddly understood.

Reo placed his hands at the sides of Kotaro’s face, thumbs continuously wiping new tears from his cheeks as they stormed their way out of his eyes.  “Oh, Kotaro. I’m not mad, you know. No one is. I was only worried because I knew you’d get hurt, and confused because I didn’t understand your behaviour. But now I have an explanation and I know you’ll be fine. And that’s what matters.”

“Don’t be needlessly hard on yourself, Hayama. You’ve had to survive without your main outlet for stress relief now that practice isn’t being held due to the finals. I can understand why it would affect you. But for now, you should concentrate on your recovery.” Akashi offered Kotaro a small smile, crimson eyes warm like a fireplace.

“You need to stay still for now,” Nebuya reached his hand out to ruffle the short blond tufts of Kotaro’s hair that weren’t covered by the bandage, “but we can go all out after exams are done, so try to keep it together until then, yeah?”

Kotaro looked at the people around him; three unique smiles all belonging to his teammates _, his friends_. The wackiest guys he’d ever known, hands down, all with a fair amount of eccentricities. But maybe that’s why it works, somehow. Maybe it takes one to know one, as they say, and Kotaro fits in with a bunch of weirdoes for being one himself. Maybe the people who really, truly love you will take you as you are, faults, quirks and illnesses included, and still see all the great things. Maybe those who love you can’t always understand you, but they’ll want to learn. Maybe it’s alright to open your heart a little bit, to those who care.

Okay, that was all a little too cheesy. Kotaro decides to keep his inner monologue as just that.

“Thanks, guys. Really.” It’s all Kotaro can offer, words that aren’t nearly enough and still leave him breathless for the immense amount of feeling behind them, but there’s only so much his heart can take. The headache feels dull compared to the odd, somehow painful and yet comforting mess of emotions he’s going through right now, and his chest and throat feel full, like he had been gobbling up large amounts of food and the huge bites were now stuck inside without ever getting to his stomach.

Somehow, the sensation makes him feel warm in a way he’s not used to.

Akashi answers his gratitude with a nod, and then directs his gaze to the clock hanging from the wall on his right. “We should tell the staff that you’re awake. It has been over thirty minutes since you regained consciousness, after all.” An audible gasp leaves Reo’s mouth.

“I forgot about that completely! Kotaro, do you feel better than when you woke up? Does your head hurt?”

“You forgot about a whole lot of things after you came back. Like asking how he was in the first place. The drinks, too.” Nebuya points at the plastic bag now dangling from Reo’s forearm, and Reo sends one of the two sports drinks flying, aiming at Nebuya’s chest. In the end, the drink is caught by large hands, earning a triumphant grin from Nebuya and an irritated glare from Reo. Kotaro snorts.

“I’m feeling better now, yeah. Anyway, Reo-nee, tell them to let me out of here. I don’t wanna spend the night in a hospital!”

Reo remains seated beside Kotaro, handing Akashi a can of green tea as their team’s captain and center leave to search for the nearest medical staff member. “Actions have consequences, young man”, Reo tells him, making Kotaro frown, and he chuckles at the expression, “but I’ll stay with you as long as possible.” Kotaro’s frown disappears into thin air at the words.

“Hey, Reo-nee?”

“Hm?”

“I… feel really loved.”

Reo smiles, heartfelt and gentle. “I told you so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are, everyone! A drabble idea that was supposed to be no longer than 1000 words escalated into this, and I have no regrets. A final shoutout to Av, the Kotaro to my Reo, who inspired me to write this and listened to my venting in these past few months, while I’ve been suffering due to a horrible writer’s block (a fic that should take me no more than a few hours now took months, what in the Heavens) as well as many personal matters. Somehow, I was able to push through and finish this story. Thank you, Ko-ta-ro.<3 I’ve been wanting to write about Rakuzan for a very long time now, and I’m happy to finally be able to say that I have. (Also I’m sorry Mayuyu, you cynical chickadee, I’ll try to write about you in the future!)
> 
> Also, a few extra bits of info regarding the fic:
> 
> The book Reo went to buy is for an advanced class of literature, his best subject in canon.
> 
> The white lace handkerchief Akashi offers to Reo actually belonged to Shiori, his mother. It was the same handkerchief his mother would always use to wipe his tears with, and Akashi has carried it with him as a memento ever since she passed away. It symbolizes Shiori’s role as his only source of comfort, and it’s always nearby, either in his pocket or safe and sound in his bag.
> 
> Reo has a unique speech pattern in japanese called onee-kotoba, which is supposed to sound both gentle and sassy, so I tried to create something alike to it while writing his lines.
> 
> According to KUROFES, Kotaro dislikes/is bad at staying still. This together with his usual hyperactive and impulsive behaviour (such as avoiding bumping into Kagami by doing a somersault in the middle of a staircase and generally just not running out of energy) shown in canon really drove me to write about it.
> 
> Finally, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed creating it.


End file.
